‘Who are you talking to?’ said Hildegard.
‘Myself,’ said Celeste.
‘You’re doing that a lot,’ said Hildegard. ‘Does it mean you are going to light up and be scary?’ They had been waiting for Anna in the dressing-room for what Hildegard considered forever, but must only have been an hour or so.
‘My tummy is rumbling. I’m hungry. Are you hungry?’
I can hear Maria, thought Celeste, and that is more than enough.
For the first time since she’d begun to play the game, Maria felt there was some hope of winning. They’d both come to realise that they didn’t need to be with one another to be able to communicate and for both of them there was great comfort in knowing that the other was there. Maria could talk to Viggo but for that she had to be visible in his presence and it was becoming harder to take on her ghost-like form.
‘When Anna comes back,’ Maria was saying, ‘ask her where she’s been. But do it when you’re alone.’
Then:
‘If Anna now believes you’re not me, she mustn’t tell anyone we are twins.’
And:
‘You must be careful of Albert Ross. He is not to be trusted.’
‘Do you know who he is?’ asked Celeste.
‘No, but I keep thinking of the fairy tale.’
‘I wonder if Mama knows about the pantomime yet,’ said Hildegard.
Just then Anna burst in carrying an extravagant number of parcels. ‘I’ve been to Mr Holme’s hat shop,’ she said. She put the parcels on the dressing-table and sat down, dusting snow off her petticoat.
‘Do you know,’ she said to Celeste, ‘I feel more clear-headed than I have done for ages. Have you two had anything to eat? When we get home I’ll make you something delicious.’
‘Let’s leave now,’ said Hildegard.
It was Celeste who told Anna about the audition. She sensed the change in Anna, that she was no longer reciting as if from a script.
‘Is this true, Hildegard?’ Anna said, laughing. ‘You have the part of Columbine in the Christmas pantomime?’
Hildegard nodded.
‘Why, that’s wonderful. Does Madame know?’
‘No,’ said Hildegard, ‘and I don’t think we should tell her – not today. You see, I wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been for the shipwreck.’
Anna was puzzled. ‘What shipwreck?’ she asked and Hildegard explained.
‘Madame Sabina should be told straight away about Hildegard’s taking the Columbine role,’ said Anna. ‘Better now than later.’
‘Miss Olsen has told her,’ Maria said to Celeste.
‘Madame Sabina has already been told,’ said Celeste to Anna.
‘Then we should leave the theatre now,’ said Hildegard.
Anna gathered up the parcels from the dressing-table. She didn’t do it with care but as if they were cannonballs to be fired at the enemy.
Smiling, she said, ‘Come on, let’s pay a visit to your mama.’
Celeste saw in the way Anna moved that she was the Anna she remembered – strong-minded, determined, no one’s servant. She made Celeste feel brave too.
‘Our Anna, the old Anna is back,’ said Celeste to Maria in her head.
Another memory escaped the iron box of forgetfulness: the hat shop. Anna had looked at a black hat every day for three weeks, taking detours in order to stare again at the hat shop window. And Celeste remembered the kind old gentleman telling Anna that she looked so pretty in the hat. She remembered it was on the day she chose the toy theatre; it was a Christmas present from her parents. It was Christmas.
‘Christmas,’ repeated Maria. ‘Of course. It was Christmas and afterwards we were going on the Empress.’
‘Why were we?’ said Celeste.
‘Why were we what?’ said Hildegard.
‘Nothing,’ said Celeste.
They were nearing Madame Sabina’s dressing-room when they heard the tap-tap-tap of a cane.
‘Out of my way, out of my way,’ said the piano tuner as he passed them.
Celeste pulled up abruptly for she was sure she heard him mutter, ‘Time is not your friend.’
‘What did he say?’ asked Hildegard.
‘I don’t know,’ said Celeste and turned to watch him walk away.
Again, she had a strange feeling that he had disappeared into nothing.
Outside Madame Sabina’s door, Hildegard tugged Anna’s sleeve. ‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘can’t we go home?’
‘There’s never going to be a good time to do this,’ said Anna gently. ‘Just a time which is now. Let’s slay the dragon.’
Madame Sabina was sitting at her dressing-table, powdering her face. She was in a foul temper. The moment she saw Anna she snapped.
‘There you are – at last. Miss Olsen came with some feeble excuse that you had fainted in the hat shop. Are my parcels safe? You didn’t drop them? You will have to pay for any damage.’
Anna said nothing but didn’t take her eyes off the furious diva. Hildegard clung to Celeste.
‘You should have been back hours ago and if you had been doing your job properly this nonsense with Hildegard would have been stopped before it got out of hand. I’ve told Gautier that he will have to look again for a singer. I will not have my daughter appearing in a pantomime.’ Another thought fuelled her fury. ‘You should be locked up in a madhouse – I never should have persuaded myself to trust you.’
Celeste listened with a growing sense of rage. How dare she talk to Anna – or to anybody – in such a manner.
‘And after all my kindness to you, Maria – Celeste – or whatever you call yourself,’ Madame Sabina continued, ‘you go behind my back to the director and…’
Anna had still said nothing, nor had she moved. Suddenly she let the carefully wrapped packages fall to the floor. The noise they made was satisfying and the sound of glass breaking came from one of them.
Madame Sabina looked horrified. ‘You will pay for that!’ she screamed.
Anna replied without raising her voice, ‘I have seen how you treat your daughter, how you cast her out, letting her know that she’s not important, making her fully aware that you do not care for her. Far from encouraging an extraordinary musical talent, you told her that her voice sounded like gravel, and you have done your best to ruin her confidence. You are not the spirit of this city, you are a cruel, jealous woman.’
‘I will take my daughter back immediately,’ said Madame Sabina. ‘As for you, you witch, you can pack your bags and leave the apartment. You will have nothing more to do with Hildegard.’
Hildegard backed away, but Madame Sabina took hold of her and raised her hand to hit her. Celeste was enraged. She couldn’t help it – beams of light shone from her scars, powerful enough to push Madame Sabina across the dressing-room. Then, Celeste calmed herself, and the beams turned to flickers, dimmed and died as Mr Gautier entered the dressing-room. He had heard Madame Sabina’s tirade as had most of the theatre and was furious.
‘I am sure,’ he said, ‘the newspapers would be delighted to know exactly how the great diva, Madame Sabina Petrova, punishes her daughter for winning a starring role in the Royal Opera House’s Christmas pantomime. You would no longer be hailed as the spirit of the city, would you?’
‘Did you see the light that came from the girl?’ gasped Madame Sabina.
‘No, but I heard every word that came from your lips.’
Celeste wished it hadn’t happened, not in front of the diva. Anna hadn’t moved; Hildegard was holding her hand and they looked as if they would not be separated, regardless of what Hildegard’s mama might demand. Mr Gautier gathered them up and accompanied the three of them to the stage door where he called for a cab.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said to Anna. ‘I’ll deal with it. Just bring Hildegard to rehearsals tomorrow morning.’
They sat quietly in the cab, lost in their own thoughts. Hildegard found it hard to believe that her own mother could be so jealous of her.
Anna couldn’t get out of her mind the image of Celeste disappearing in the brilliant lights that came from her scars. And she feared what Madame Sabina would make of it. She must speak to Celeste later when they were alone.
Inside Celeste’s head, Maria was silent.
At the apartment, Anna went to light the fire and make the tea.
‘I didn’t think Mama would be so very angry,’ said Hildegard. ‘Did you?’
‘Yes, I did,’ said Celeste. ‘Now, tell me – which of us is more frightening – your mama or me?’
Hildegard burst out laughing and so did Celeste.